So I've been in a funk lately. Not news by any means if you've been reading long enough, but I am attributing this recent bout of lacklusterness to homesickness. I got soome shitty news about my health the other day and any time I am sick, I immediately want to be in the confines of my childhood home, or wherever my mom is, since I don't really have a childhood home. Homes, maybe, but not just one.

In any event, I haven't felt like updating or taking pictures or anything really other than going straight to bed after dinner and then waking up every two hours to have a smoke and paint a little bit on the wall with ink-black paint in swirls and branches. It's crazy, I know. Everything about me is. Feels like.

You want to talk crazy...lets go over a couple of other things that I've done the past couple of days.

During a work assignment, I was at someone's house. When I left, I knew I was taking a little dog with me. His name is Bailey, he's been abandoned by his owners and he needs a place to chill until he breathes his last. He's 12, that's why I wrote that last little bit. The funky thing about this little guy is that he is going blind...leave it to me to do something like this, but I gotta tell you...having a little warm body in bed with me at night makes it that much easier. He's a god send, at this point.


Then today, in the mail this arrives...

The last few seasons of Oz and a few other things...woo!

Then I remembered that I had ordered a couple of movies gift wrapped. Nuts, I know. But I like opening presents...even if it means I sent them to myself.


complete with a note...


Ah....a Cusack movie I haven't seen and you should see my face now, all aglitter.

I'm listening to sad Counting Crows music and looking over the table at the box of dvds and the juice glass full of Arctic Cotton blossoms and I realise this is my home, so I should stop being sick over it.

My fingers type words that aren't even in my mind and I find I'm hitting the Delete key more often than not. I know what you've been reading here the past few months has been clumsy and not by any means slick and easy the way it used to be. But clumsy is what's on the menu for awhile.

Bon apetit.G.

I woke up scared, in my bed last night. A bad dream that made me sleep the remaining hour with the lights on, and missing another body in the house so bad.

Helicopters are constantly thundering above my head, lately. I feel as though I'm in some sort of military state where flights are the norm and that I ought to be expecting soldiers to slowly re-enter the community like lost brothers. But the town has been quiet lately, a lot of people have left to inhabit their summer camps and enjoy being 'out on the land'.

It's just me and helicopters, I suppose. It's such an odd sound to hear...one would expect it to be very quiet.

I've been rather ambitious the past few days. Yesterday I decided to venture out on the land and get some photos of flowers and things that are growing. I was eagerly anticipating the growth of a common flower in the arctic called Arctic Cotton.

They resemble cotton balls on sticks, the flower itself feels and also looks like white rabbit fur blowing in the wind.


Then today, I decide I am going to find someone to give or sell me an Arctic Char which is a common fish and also considered a delicacy around the world. I'm not normally a fish person, the best I can usually do is tuna from a can, or maybe perch or halibut. Something that doesn't taste fishy, which sort of defeats the purpose, right? So, I was driving all over trying to figure out who were regularly fished, and who might want to part with a fresh one that I can cook for dinner tonight. A friend gave me two idiot-proof recipes, and I was anxious to try it.

The thing about the north is that nothing comes in a tidy little package. I ended up coming home with this gigantic fish in a grocery bag, with his head still attached. At least his innards had been cleaned. At least, I think I was supposed to leave the main blood line in there...eep.


So, I chopped off the head, it's sitting in the sink right now. I was planning on taking it over to one of the sled dog teams that are posted on the outskirts of the village, but one head for 7 dogs doesn't really make any sense. So it will likely end up in the trash. I can't stop looking at it's eye balls. I feel as though I want to keep it around for awhile, like a little friend.


I made some steaks, I guess you could call them and saved those for tomorrow (in the event this evening's dish turns to disaster) and the other half of the fish is currently wrapped in tinfoil and being baked in the oven. I seasoned it with salt and pepper, some garlic (because I like garlic), a tad bit of olive oil and wrapped it up and tossed it in there. The only thing is...umm, well, I couldn't get the tail fin off because my knives are crappy, and the tinfoil wasn't long enough, so it's sticking out of the pan. Clearly, and this should be no surprise to you, this is an amateur job.

Hopefully, that won't hurt the cooking of the rest of the fish.

And for the first time, I touched the water that was the ocean. Salty water on my tongue.


And it just amazes me, the view from the shore of my melting ocean...

Labels: 'North', Arctic Circle, cooking, dinner, flowers, photographs, photography

...and your love was like a broken bottle.
yep, been slacking on the updating action. I can't remember if I mentioned this before, but I've become enamored with instant potatoes and fat Bing cherries. Not together, of course...but those are the two things that I've been subsisting on lately. It's just the way I eat, if left to my own devices. I would have had it for lunch today if I hadn't been invited to the DEW line, which is cool because they have an indoor smoking room. And tons of new guys that I haven't met before. Nice on the eyes, and it's not like I'm expected to make conversation. Or rather, I am...I just don't. I use the shield of shyness nearly everywhere I go.

I promised photos of the new bedroom. I didn't want to post any after awhile because it seemed like a trite thing to take pictures of, but here's one of the closet and window area.
I just love the angles of this place.

drawing circles in your concret, I will know your every move...
Sometimes, I crank the music up in my office while I'm typing away at whatever I'm working on. In the blandness of the afternoon light, my fingers are a stark colour against the black of the keyboard. It keeps my eyes moving. Makes me miss typewriters. Where your eyes had something to follow, back and forth. I wish I had a typewriter.

I will love you....I won't let go...
Anyway, I'd better get going. I'm planning a walk tonight, did I say that? I will post pictures when....I feel like it. heh.
G.

Broken Bottle - Pete YornUndercover - Pete Yorn

Labels: flowers, forgetfullness, forgot, hawksley workman, music, Nunavut, photographs, photography

give me streets to burn
Truth be told, I haven't thought much about updating lately. I've been just going to work, coming home and going to bed. Rinse, reuse.

I always go home for lunch and watch episodes of Oz. I grabbed the first three seasons while on vacation and have been working my way through them ever since I got back. Trouble is, that show is freaking depressing. After a week of lunchtime drama, I'm sure I've been reprogrammed to think that I'm in an Arctic prison of sorts. So I've been walking around in a fug since Saturday. It's all in your own perception of things. Freaking t.v shows...

Yesterday, I tried to bake a cake. Yeah. Me, baking. Pretty simple, I figured. Instructions were on the box, you just added eggs and water, wisk and into the oven. Tell that to my cake that came out. It was lopsided and an ugly yellow colour. It's still sitting on top of the stove as I type this. I don't know whether I should eat it anyway or throw it out. *sigh*

I also procured a credit card, with which I immediately started perusing the internet with. I ordered some Kids in the Hall dvds (actually, all of them), and the last 3 seasons of 3rd Rock from the Sun. Then I remembered that I wanted Claire Fontaine paper, so I ordered that, too. It turns out that Flickr, my main photo dumping ground has all sorts of neato affiliates where you can order post cards, posters, calendars, etc all using your photos as the backgrounds. So I ordered a shitload of post cards. I finally stopped ordering today, when I tried to send flowers to Rose as a joke. You know you're nuts when you try to send your favourite flowers to everyone else except yourself.

I've also been paying close attention to the character of Tim McManus. I used to think this guy must be some sort of layabout actor, until I learned Terry Kinney is one of the three founding members of the Steppenwolf Theatre along with Gary Sinise in Chicago. I was like....damn.

There. I just did it again. That's it. I'm staying away from Amazon.com...they just have everything I've ever wanted in the way of dvds, so it's just best to cease and desist. But I couldn't resist those John Cusack movies, and how am I supposed to know what happens in Oz if I only have the first 3 seasons??

I know, I know....I'm sick. Gotta go. T.v is waiting, don't you know.

Simple Man - Graham Nash (this is what is stuck in my head)

Labels: dvds, internet shopping, John Cusack movies, movies

My plan for going to bed early and early to rise has thwarted me. I snapped wide awake at around midnight. I lay there in my dark bed, looking around at the semi-darkness of the bedroom. Also the cracks of light coming through the tinfoil on my windows, and the light that was sneaking up the stairs from the first floor.

It's all just trying to get in. To get to the thin skin that covers my eyes.

So I wandered downstairs to get a drink and shot this from my kitchen window.


Admittedly, not a great photo but I just wanted to get across that the sun really doesn't set around here, this time of year. I mean, I tell people that but they just can't comprehend it. I swear the sun just goes around the sky in a big circle, finally looking a little like dawn at around midnight.

Otherwise, you can catch me on my couch watching CSI reruns and smoking cigarettes. The weather has been too chilly for any outdoor activities, and honestly...I am a little afraid of going too far from the house because of the polar bear action outside of the village. I'm not ready to be anyone's dinner just yet.

In other news, I ran out of laundry soap the other day and had to buy a little box of it at the cost of $25.00. I bought about 5 big bottles of the stuff and it's waiting to be moved up here, but the laundry couldn't wait. Especially since I always want to wear one of two pairs of jeans. No fancy office suits for me, up here.

Maybe there will be some photos to be had this weekend. I was planning on rearranging the living room just because....

I can.

Labels: 'North', Nunavut

I sorta lied when I said I was giving up pop. I meant I was giving it up until it became more reasonable for me to buy it. Or procur it.

So a case of 24 pretty, shiny cans came my way last week. At the bargain price of 30 dollars. I was so happy to have it. When I was putting it in the fridge, can by can, the whole case fell face down onto the floor. Pop was fizzing and spraying everywhere. I wasn't sad about the pop, I was more like: fuuuckkk...I just pissed away 30 bucks. Money. It always comes back to the money for me.

Anyway, it was only one can that was opened. The rest of them are deformed but totally still....good.

I've become one of the responsible. One of the ones that save their money rather than spend it. And I could spend. I used to be able to spend whatever I had, on whatever I wanted. But the past couple of years, I've been bitten by some other sort of bug and now have no interest in buying things. Not really. So, I opened an account while I was in London and made the first deposit when I got my last paycheque.

It doesn't sound like a big deal, I know. But I've been doing calculations in my head..ok, not really in my head, but I've been adding up what I could save during the time I am here. And if it all is as the calculator says, then I will come away from this experience with everything I need in order to live a full and happy life in Southern Wherever.

Southern Wherever. That's the other problem, but I'll deal with it when it comes time to move again (hopefully not for a couple of years).

In the quiet sanctuary in the back of my mind, I still wonder if a certain anyone will log on and read what I've been writing. I half-heartedly look for user names or comments but it never reveals itself. I think about that user name while helicopters thud in the sky over my head. Or he comes to mind when I hear planes taking off. Then I think of things like there are only shadows in my blue skies. Or dust that covers my windshield like a blanket.

Then I just push it away, and it's daylight again.